The Legend of The Last Knight
by Phantomlink959
Summary: Legends. Stories scattered through time. Mankind has grown quite fond of recounting the exploits of heroes and villains, forgetting so easily that we are remnants, byproducts, of a forgotten past. This is one of those stories, said by some to detail the origin of weapons once wielded by a fallen order of knights.


Hello, dear readers. I'm not sure I'll ever actually write the story I created this legend as a part of, (OC stories aren't terribly popular after all, and that particular tale would be almost exclusively populated by them.) but I wanted to share this, as I put a lot of time and effort into writing it.

* * *

Long ago, there was a small kingdom ruled by a kind hearted king who was served by eight knights and a legion of loyal soldiers. Though his rule was long, the kingdom was doomed to fall as a dark force set its eyes on his people.

The first knight was youngest and the King's heir, known as knight of the sun, A warrior whose skill was unmatched, he wielded a blade forged of fire and guarded the gates, ensuring none who meant harm could enter the castle.

Second was the steadfast and unmoving knight of earth, he stood at the King's right hand day and night, holding a mighty shield. Born in the mountains and brought to serve as a sign of good faith.

Third was the knight of the sea, a child of the moon raised to serve the king, she was wise and calm. She held a simple spear and stood at the kings left hand, acting as an advisor.

Fourth was the knight of the sky, an archer from the wilds who stood upon the castle wall, ever vigilant and wielding a bow forged of ironwood.

The fifth knight was that of the moon, a scholarly elder and master of dust, the library was his home and laboratory where he raised his daughter, who became the third knight.

The sixth knight was of the dessert, a skilled thief sworn to protect the king's wealth, in his hand a knife tipped by deadly poison. Forced to serve for his treachery, he held no loyalty to the crown.

Seventh was the knight of the stars, a master spy who carried out the royal will and told the king of imminent threats; words were his weapon and no tool graced his hand, banished from the kingdom but ever loyal.

The last knight was that of the shadows, born in the dungeons and raised in silence, rarely seen and never spoken he wandered the castle halls in hallowed armor, the final line should the kingdom fall.

When evil came to ravage the kingdom, the eight stood valiantly; facing their fate in due course. For every night, a horde of darkness ravaged the realm.

Before sunset of the fateful first day, word came from the errant spy amongst the stars; A darkness would soon fall, and his life would soon be claimed. He fought but did not last long, a lover; not a soldier.

On the second night, she who was born of the moon fell; standing vigilant at the border between land and her namesake the sea, accompanied by 50 young women, her sisters in arms. The tide turned that night, but the first guardian was lost to time; and the first army was scattered like the ocean breeze.

As the darkness fell upon the kingdom the third night, the mountainous knight of earth held the line at the kingdom's edge; his mighty shield at the center of a wall stretching far beyond sight across the besieged border. Though the wall was mighty, it could not hold forever and one by one the guardians fell; shields became tombstones that very morning as the knight of earth drew his last breath.

During the fourth night, the darkness crept forth to the castle's walls, pushing back the subjects of the once prosperous land. Though the horde krept ever forward, the archers let fly a hail of arrows. Though few in number they were many and spirit, and every arrow struck true, so that the good people of the kingdom could hide within the safety of the king's own home even as the knight of the sky's fingers bled, raw from the string of his bow. Skill cannot forge arrows, however, and the quivers inevitably ran dry. The archers did not flee, but lept from the walls; following the lead of their vigilant master to save the last woman and child so they could enter the fortress.

The fifth night was disastrous; as the horde stormed the walls, A band of thieves abandoned their post and made off with the treasury, slipping out through an ancient passageway; the tunnel collapsed behind them, crushing their treacherous leader as his greed slowed his escape.

He of the moon mourned the death of his daughter on the sixth night, and sealed the library with a powerful enchantment. Within was the knowledge of an era, lost to time as its master tried in vain to rebuild the fallen wall before the hordes returned. His effort failed and the builders at his command were slain like sheep.

The last night came and the blade of the sun swept across the horde like holy flame; his ten brothers fight at his side even as the light of their kingdom dimmed, they fought to their last but the will of a generation can hold only so long. In the end the sons of the kingdom died in vain.

An eight night never came, as a kingdom fell to dust. Hidden in his armor, the horde passed him by on the seventh and the one who dwelt in shadows stood alone, a silent vigil for his brethren knights that lasts an eternity. Among the rubble of a nation walks a hollow soul, gathering the relics of a lost age.

* * *

I can provide more details about the artifacts it mentions if you send me a message, and you're free to use or reference the legend if you like, just be sure to credit me (and preferably send me a link to your story.) If anyone happens to be interested in seeing an actual story to go along with the legend, please say so in a review! I have plenty of characters whose stories are waiting to be shared.


End file.
